


peace, peace, my kingdom for a piece

by orphan_account



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Disordered Eating, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, See Warnings Inside, but I know some people will relate, heavy on the hurt heavy on the comfort, relatable? I hope not, struggles with food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 15:37:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18264290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Riley has hard days, sometimes. And food is an ugly word with the wrong people.





	peace, peace, my kingdom for a piece

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for: disordered eating, hints of an eating disorder (but not really? There isn't technically an eating disorder just sort of an unhealthy attitude towards a character's weight and eating habits by themselves and others). If this will trigger you, please don't read. Take care of yourself!
> 
> Not-warnings for: a healthy relationship with a father-figure! Yay!

Sometimes, she's okay. Sometimes she can laugh and eat and not worry about it. She can sit down with a burger and some chips and vegetables and enjoy the food without the niggle at the back of her mind.

Other days are much, much harder. She stands in front of the mirror and examines the way her shirt falls against her stomach. She puts on a baggier shirt. She thinks about the way her jeans fit. Are they tighter than they were yesterday? She runs an extra mile. She doesn't cut out food- she heard somewhere that that can actually make you unhealthier than just- modifying what you eat. Maybe eating a little less.

Nothing major.

* * *

She knows Jack was worried about her, before. Before he left. He'd watch her as she carefully portioned out her plate, put a little back. "Sweetie," he'd said, kind and caring and  _Jack,_ "You sure you don't want a little more? You're still a growing girl. I thought you wanted to get big enough to be able to beat me at a race?"

Jack had made it easy.

Her dad- the man- Elwood had been harder. It had been a joke, but it was hard, sometimes, when he said things like, "That's a whole lot of food, you training for a competition or something?" and, "I think if you eat all that you might grow in the wrong direction!"

She'd nod, put some back, and not think of the way she  _really_  wanted just a little of the delicious pie they'd gotten from the local diner that had just opened up. 

She wonders, sometimes, why it was easier with Jack. Why so much was easier with him. 

Who she'd be now if he hadn't left.

* * *

Jack's watching her as she munches away at the apple at ten-thirty at night, sitting in the War Room, waiting for Mac to radio in- or Bozer, whichever one actually remembered to do so once they tore themselves away from the movie convention they were undercover at. She shifts in her chair, thinking of the way she had always felt when Elwood watched her, especially when she ate. Judged, and found wanting. Examined, and found defective. 

She thinks of the way she feels when Jack watches her, even when she eats. Safe, and cared for. Wanted, and loved. She sinks into her chair, feeling the comforting weight of Jack's gaze covering her like she imagines it would feel if he was her biological dad. Like a weighted blanket feels to someone who's been touch-starved for years. 

She looks towards the trash bin in the corner, judges the weight of the apple core in her palm. She throws it towards the bin, a clean shot. The core thumps to the bottom the same time Jack steps forward, walks towards her, sinks into the chair beside hers. She grins at him. "Proud of me? I just made a shot I don't think even you could."

Jack looks at her, eyes strangely serious for a moment even as he laughs, the rumble warm and deep, surrounding her like a dad's arms when his daughter lays her head on his chest as he hugs her. "I'm always proud of you, kid. You know that."

She glances down at her laptop, at the tabs she has opened that are presenting arguments about whether running or weight lifting is better for losing weight, at how many calories one burns per hour of running. "Even when you heard I hacked the NSA?"

Jack's eyes lighten at that, laughter crinkling their corners. "Well, I might've not thought that was the best life decision I've seen you make, but you better believe my first thought was that I always knew you were that good."

Riley closes the tabs. She feels strangely guilty, sitting here with Jack while they stare accusingly at her. 

She doesn't need them. She's read them before, or others like them. 

It all blends together, after a while. 

Jack watches her. Flicks his eyes off to the side. "I thought you were determined to get some ice cream earlier?"

Riley shrugs. "It wasn't worth it, today."

Jack knows, she knows, a little bit. He's talked to her about it. She knows he's thinking about asking, " _worth what?"._ She knows he won't because he doesn't want to make her speak of what she's ashamed of. Doesn't want to make her say it wasn't worth the guilt, the staring at the scale, the extra miles she'd run for the next week. 

Jack reaches across the divide, grabs her hand. His palm is warm and rough, callused from holding a rifle and from years of everyday taks, from protecting others and from building a dollhouse for a little girl who didn't know what she wanted but wondered if eating less would make her real dad love her enough to realize his jokes hurt sometimes. 

She thinks about how today was a bad day. How she put a crop top on, resolved to wear a cute outfit. How she looked at herself in the mirror and tore the top off, instead picking a shirt that was casually comfortable. Baggy and soft and large. She thinks about how it was hard to force food down today. She thinks about Jack's hand holding hers, knows that he loves her. That he's never made a joke that hurt her, designed to or not. Has never hit her insecurities like Elwood did. Does.

Knows that he worries, sometimes, about how thin he thinks she is (thinks or is? She doesn't know at this point). 

She knows there'll be other bad days. Days where she can't stop thinking about how she looks, about the numbers on the scale, about her weight. 

She thinks about her therapist. A different one than the one she'd gone to as a kid, but just as understanding. Who's helping her get through this, helping her learn how to be healthy. How there are less bad days now than there have been for a while.

She thinks about Jack and the way he laughs, the way he hugged her when she was a kid. When she first felt his hug, she understood why her friends said they always went to their daddies when something was wrong. Thinks of the way he hugs her these days, like he's shielding her from the world and he'll keep her safe as long as she needs it. 

Riley squeezes her real dad's hand and looks over. He has more lines around his eyes now, more lines carving deeper furrows in his face than he did years ago, but his eyes are still kind and his mouth still tilts upward even when at rest. She grins at him and he grins back. "You want to go raid the cafeteria with me? I heard they have chocolate tonight."

He lets her pull him up off the chair and a daughter and her father spend the evening laughing together. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you or someone you know is struggling with a mental illness or have troubles with your mental state, please seek help. You are worth it and it's okay to need help.


End file.
